Conundrum
by Enfleurage
Summary: RGB, not EGB. Egon & Janine: Are they or aren't they and why should Peter care either way? Adult language and references to adult situations. 5/4/12 A/N: This is not a repost, it's a replacement as I finally split this into separate chapters.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: Not intended as a repost, just *finally* breaking this into chapters, which I should have done ages ago. It was the first multi-chapter story I'd posted to this site and at the time - years and years ago - I just couldn't figure out how to post separate chapters. I agree with some reviewers that it was confusing and hard to follow as it was. Apologies that it took so long for me to fix this.

DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to their corporate parents. I'm just playing with them and I have no money worth going to court over, though the zine collection might be worth something.

SUMMARY: E-J. Are they or aren't they and why should Peter care either way?

* * *

"Damn it, Egon." Peter Venkman's wail carried up the spiral staircase into the lab where the object of his pursuit was ensconced. "You did it again, didn't you?"

Spengler didn't raise his eyes from the computer monitor. "If you expect a response, I must insist upon a more precise accusation, Peter."

"Janine."

Winston Zeddemore and Ray Stantz looked up warily from the disemboweled frame of a proton pack, its components scattered around them on one of the larger lab tables.

"She's playing that tape, you know the one." Peter waved his arms, a flurry of motion designed to pull Egon's attention away from his latest data collection. "The 'Egon broke my heart again so I'm going to play sad songs all day and drive that nice Dr. Venkman to drink' tape."

"Uh-oh, I know that one," Winston said, with a sidelong glance at Spengler. "What was she playing that drove you up here?"

"I Can't Make You Love Me," Peter said, with a grimace as he threw himself onto the battered couch. The couch was old and ugly, but it was comfortable and the best place from which to watch or harangue his favorite two scientists.

"Bonnie Raitt." Ray nodded. "That's a great album."

"Hardly the point, Ray. She plays this weepy crap all day and the one person who it's aimed at doesn't even hear it because he's hiding up in his lab. It's the rest of us who suffer."

Winston twirled a screwdriver in one hand as he regarded Spengler with undisguised curiosity and a trace of sympathy. "What did you do this time, man?"

"And don't give me that 'It's a personal matter' crap either," Peter railed. "We have to live with every high and low in your relationship with Janine. When she's happy with you, life is good, she's nice to people who call, she's even almost nice to me. When she's not so happy with you, life sucks. She bitches at me all the time, and snarls at the customers or mopes around like she's ready to burst into tears. It's like having Sybil manning the front lines."

Winston's protest and Ray's overlapped and blended.

"Come on, Pete, you know you're exaggerating…"

"…not true. Janine has feelings but she doesn't take them out on us."

Three pairs of amused eyes regarded Ray and he blushed, muttering, "Not all the time, anyway."

Egon turned away from the computer, rubbing his eyes. "Peter, Janine is a professional and no more or less temperamental than anyone else with an office on the first floor." He waved off Venkman's outraged protest. "In response to your question, Winston, I did not do anything. Janine and I simply conversed on a matter of a personal nature and I reiterated my position. Her disappointment is not entirely unexpected though I had hoped that the consistency of the situation would mitigate her expectations."

"Jeez, Egon, we're talking affairs of the heart, not one of your mold experiments." Venkman shifted positions on the couch and his eyes narrowed. "I think this has gone on long enough. Bottom line, do you love her?"

"Yes," Spengler responded promptly. "I also love my mother, many of my family members and my friends." He shot a steely glare in the direction of the couch. "Most of them."

Peter snorted. "Nice dodge on the love question, Spengs. Please tell me that isn't how you reiterated your position with Janine."

"I did not use that specific phrasing. You might credit me with a little more diplomacy that that." Egon sighed and then ran a hand through his hair in a way that lifted it gently without disheveling it in the least. "There is a significant difference between love and being in love. While you are 'in love' several times a year, Peter, I consider it a more serious matter." His glance slid around the room, winning conciliatory expressions from Winston and Ray.

Peter slid forward on the couch and watched Spengler with an almost unsettling intensity. "She is in love with you, big guy, the real thing. You do know that, don't you?"

"I am aware of that." Egon frowned and shifted uncomfortably on his lab stool. "I had hoped this was a passing interest, an infatuation that would resolve itself. I am quite aware it is far more serious than that."

"So why do you go out with her?" Winston looked genuinely puzzled. "If you're not really interested, it's like you're leading her on or something."

"Why do you go out with Sarah? Are you in love with her?" Egon's challenge drew a thoughtful shrug from Zeddemore. "Or you, Peter, why do you go out with Alison? It is Alison this week, is it not?"

"Yeah, and for the last three weeks but it's not the same and you know…"

"I enjoy Janine's company and she apparently enjoys mine. She initiates many of the outings, though occasionally I invite her to accompany me. I have been completely straightforward and honest in all of my dealings with Janine. From the outset, I have let her know as gently as possible that while I am fond of her, I am not interested in moving this relationship beyond the platonic."

"Ever?" Ray ventured with obvious hesitation.

"Not in the foreseeable future, Ray. Janine is aware of this but has indicated to me that she prefers to continue our outings rather than cease them."

"Of course she does, Spengs," Peter exploded. "She's hoping that she'll grow on you, that you'll gradually fall in love with her if she just hangs in there. And you gotta admit you're giving her awfully mixed signals."

"I admit no such thing. As a psychologist you well know that behaviors or conversation are often interpreted based on expectation, not actuality."

Venkman scowled, green eyes darkening under lowered brows. "Stick to physics, Spengler. That's so obviously a justification that any psych undergrad could tear it apart in a millisecond."

"I do not understand why Janine's affection for me imposes an expectation of a reciprocal affection of equal intensity, simply by its existence."

"That's a fair question," Winston said slowly. "You guys make a nice couple, you complement each other nicely and I just thought things would evolve in that direction, but it does kind of ignore what you want."

"But, Egon, you've kissed her and stuff," Ray said, his discomfort visibly red. "That's not exactly platonic, is it?"

"Did you sleep with her?" Peter demanded abruptly.

"That, Dr. Venkman, is so far beyond the boundaries of decorum that this conversation is now over." Spengler stood up stiffly and glanced at the door, desperately seeking asylum and simultaneously realizing that his normal sanctuary had been breached.

"I'd call that a big yes." Venkman rose from the couch with the lithe grace of a predator on the hunt. "No mixed signals, huh?" He moved between Egon and the door as if daring the other man to try to escape.

"You know, Pete, he's got a point," Winston said, peripherally aware of a startled and grateful gaze from Egon. "It's okay for you or me or Ray to go out, casually date, and maybe even have a physical relationship," he swept his eyes over the defiant Venkman and the embarrassed Stantz, "without anyone judging us. Tell me, Pete, you ever go out with someone who got a lot more serious than you were?"

"Yeah, sure, but I didn't string her along." Peter kept his eyes trained on Egon's face. "You don't casually date someone who's in love with you. You don't sleep with them, you don't get jealous when they date someone else, you don't send them a million goddamn signals that you really are interested and then back off and say you're not."

"And you, none of you, bear any responsibility for using her feelings to our advantage?"

"You saying that we're pimping you, Spengs?" Peter laughed.

"Three months ago when Janine was considering that job offer from the public relations firm in Midtown, who was it that suggested rather insistently that I take her to dinner at Daniel?"

"That was just an employee appreciation program."

Winston folded his arms, made a disgusted snort, and Ray shifted uncomfortably on his lab stool. Venkman's raised eyebrow for support garnered only two frowns.

Egon resettled his glasses with a sigh. "I have no wish to dissect this matter. It is distasteful to me and discourteous to Janine. If it must be discussed," he leveled a gaze at Peter who blocked the door, "let us address it at a macro level. I am faced with a conundrum, gentlemen. According to Peter, I should desist my social activities with Janine, something neither she nor I wish, something which will most likely hurt her and quite possibly have a deleterious effect on daily business activity."

"And the last time you two broke it off, things were so tense we kind of pressured you to take her out again, didn't we?" Ray said quietly.

"Precisely."

"Why do you get jealous?" Peter hadn't given an inch. His crossed arms and stubborn glare announced this discussion was far from over.

"I am not jealous so much as irritated that every date is blatantly paraded in an obvious attempt to provoke jealousy. I find it tiresome."

"Bullshit."

"Truly a response worthy of Aristotle." Egon sighed deeply. "This matter is a private one between Janine and myself; we will be the ones to come to a decision. I do acknowledge its impact upon the business and am willing to discuss that aspect of it, but only that aspect of it."

"This is why getting involved at work sucks." Peter dropped his challenging glare and leaned against the doorjamb. "The way I see it, we have a couple alternatives. Number one, you dump her and she quits, which has its upside."

"I don't want her to quit," Ray said quickly.

"Number two, you dump her and she continues to work here but makes our lives miserable for a long, long time. Number three, you continue going out with her even though you're not in love with her and don't expect to ever be in love with her, and we go through cyclical periods, happy, miserable, happy, miserable, just like we are now. Number four…who's got a number four? Anyone? Come on, I haven't come up with a happy ending yet."

"Any way this goes, Janine's gonna end up getting hurt and I really don't like that," Winston said glumly.

"Number four, one of you falls in love with her and provides the desired happy ending."

Three heads swung in unison towards Spengler.

"Say what?" Winston sputtered.

"Egon!" Ray worked his jaw a few times before he could produce any more words. "Egon, this is Janine. I mean, we all love her but not like that."

"That was pretty slick, Dr. Spengler." Peter swung out of the doorway and patted his friend on the shoulder. "I think you made your point. Just remember none of us are doing the horizontal mambo with Ms. Melnitz. You can't have it both ways."

"Peter Venkman, the voice of dating etiquette. Who'd have thought?"

"Not funny, Zed. I'm trying to be serious here."

Egon gazed pensively into space. "And you've made your point, Dr. Venkman, but as I said, the matter is something Janine and I will decide."

"And we get to live with the fallout."


	2. Chapter 2

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

It had taken Janine two days, six hours and thirty-two minutes to weasel out of Ray the exact reason that Peter was so hot with Egon and Egon was so cool with Peter.

Ray squirmed in the driver's seat of Ecto. It was only after Janine pushed him into the car and ordered him to spill it, in an environment where it wasn't likely anyone would overhear, that Ray reluctantly confessed to a very sanitized version of the discussion in the lab.

"Um, which one?" He fidgeted unhappily. "Do you think we can get out of the car now?"

"Dr. V., that's who!" Janine exited the passenger side seat and slammed the door.

Ray cringed. There were two ways to draw the guys downstairs. One was to hit the alarm button. The other…Winston could hear Ecto's doors being slammed from two blocks away; he was probably already on his way.

Ray hurried back to Janine's desk and turned up the volume on the tape player, inadvertently blasting the song throughout the first floor.

"_Take another little piece of my heart now baby_…"

Wincing, he quickly turned it down, keeping it just loud enough to cover their conversation but not loud enough to be heard on another floor.

"Janine, please don't make me wish I hadn't said anything – well, don't make me regret it more than I already do. I don't think you should be angry with Peter. I think he was just trying to look out for your interests."

She swung into the chair behind her desk and eyed him sharply.

"So just who am I supposed to be angry with then, Ray? Egon? Myself? I'm not Dr. V.'s pet project and he has no business poking into my private life."

"Janine," Ray employed every bit of his considerable wide-eyed charm, "it's just that…"

"When you turn your private life into an off-Broadway musical and play it all day at work you shouldn't be surprised that other people have an opinion." The gate slammed shut behind Peter. "Oh, and nice going, Ray."

As Janine popped up from her seat, Ray dropped into the chair next to Janine's desk and buried a bright red countenance in both hands. He mentally uttered a few of the choicer swearwords he'd never say aloud.

"What's the matter, Dr. V, don't have a relationship of your own to screw up? Or do you get your jollies messing around in other people's personal lives?"

Sighing, Ray raised his head, prepared to referee if…no, not if, he corrected himself, when necessary. Janine looked taller when she was angry, a lot taller.

"Personal is when you keep it out of the office, Melnitz. If I wanted a daily dose of relationship hell, I'd watch the soaps or call a few ex- girlfriends. I don't need the 'Top Fifty Songs to Commit Suicide By.'"

"You're still here so I guess it didn't work," Janine drawled. "Although how you'd know anything about relationships when you never get beyond two or three dates with the same woman…"

Ray scrunched his eyes closed. They weren't shouting but their normally mock-hostile banter was edged with real emotion. He sighed and jumped in.

"Peter, Janine knew there was something wrong and she could tell that things were strained between you and Egon." He tried to signal frantically with his eyes that he hadn't told her everything.

"Hey, no sweat, Big J. You want to do the bump and grind with Dr. Spengler and pretend it's a relationship, be my guest. Just don't come moping to the rest of us when there's no fairytale ending." Peter stepped back and crossed his arms, a grim smile on his face.

"Do the… What did you say? …" Janine flushed purple. Not a good color with her red hair, Ray decided.

"Did I stutter?"

"Look Janine, I know you're upset," Ray interrupted a tad desperately, "but Peter was just giving Egon some advice, you know, one friend to another. I mean, we all know how you feel…"

"How I feel is my business," Janine snapped. "It's not yours, Ray, and it's certainly not Dr. Venkman's."

"It is when you wave it in our faces. I've got a song you can add to that little tape of yours: You Can't Always Get What You Want."

"I got more than one for you, buster: Hound Dog, You're So Vain…"

"Jesus, this really is like an off-Broadway musical. Girl meets boy, girl chases boy, boy reiterates his position. The same story, played over and over and over again except that instead of it happening every night, each show runs a couple of weeks, a few months. Then we get to live it all over again, right down to the soppy music."

"If you don't like the music, I'm sure I can arrange a death march or a Requiem Mass. And just where do you get off telling me how to run my life? I don't know how you're even able to walk 'cause you must have the biggest pair in recorded history."

"Janine," Peter affected mock shock. "You've been peeking again, haven't you?"

The desk phone rang. Saved by the bell, thought Ray in considerable relief. It rang again. And again while two pairs of narrowed green eyes maintained a standoff. Peter broke first.

"Janine, in case you don't remember, we pay you to answer phones. You gonna get that?"

"It's after five." Janine yanked open the bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed her purse. "And I'm out of here. I don't get paid enough to get abused on my own time."

Ray's eyes followed her to the door, admiring the straight back and the controlled stride. She wasn't giving an inch.

"Ghostbusters, this is Dr. Peter Venkman. How may I help you?"

Ray blew out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and noticed for the first time the figure of Winston Zeddemore posed halfway down the staircase. Winston's face was pale, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted, every feature frozen. Wondering just how long Zeddemore had been perched there and how much he'd heard – based on his expression, it was more than enough – Ray turned his attention back to Venkman who stood at Janine's desk with a deceptively calm exterior.

"Yeah…uh-huh….sure, no problem…uh-huh…well, we could do it tomorrow afternoon…okay, yeah, I understand…well, if we come out tonight it'd be at emergency rates…ok, no problem, we're see you in about an hour."

After Peter dropped the receiver back into the cradle, an uneasy silence pervaded the entire first floor. Ray and Winston were motionless.

"Yeah, well that sounds like a fixed repeater." Peter finished jotting down the last of his illegible notes and glanced around carefully. "Some yuppie couple just bought a brownstone and want to start renovating it. They bought it from the estate of some old lady who recently died. Sounds like the old lady's dead husband is still hanging around or something. Should be an easy one and we get paid extra for going out tonight."

Ray raised his eyes to Winston, pleading mutely.

"I guess I'd better go get Egon," Winston said, every word as stiff and awkward as his hurried exit.

Ray waited a discreet ten seconds or so. "Peter, I think Janine was really upset."

"You think that was upset? You should see our quarterly reviews and salary negotiations."

The wheels on Janine's chair squeaked as Peter pushed it in; he walked away from the desk and leaned against the gate that bordered his office area.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ray?"

Ray stood and brushed imaginary lint from his knees before meeting Peter's gaze and smiling ruefully.

"I told her you were busting Egon's chops because she seemed blue and that Egon got annoyed and told you to mind your own business."

Peter stood stock still, a myriad of emotions running through his eyes, his expression frozen. "That's all you said?"

"Uh-huh."

"Shit."


	3. Chapter 3

"Pete, man, what the hell are you doing?"

Neatly sliding the last of the proton packs back into its base, Winston shot a glance over his right shoulder. Ray was downstairs dumping the trap and Egon had fled up the stairs like a bat out of hell, probably crying 'Sanctuary, Sanctuary' in his head. Zeddemore gave himself a mental shake. Enough drama going on without resorting to old movies.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Peter said with a scowl. "I'm logging the job and the receipt in the computer. See, American Express Platinum card receipt in this hand," he waved the slip of paper in his left hand, "and data entry using the keyboard…shit, I hate typing. How do you backspace?"

Winston shook his head and took his time strolling over to Janine's desk. Of all of them, Peter was probably the quickest to absorb and master anything new. When he wanted to learn. He was perfectly content to let Janine and his three partners do most of the computer work.

"In this billing software you have to tab back to that field. No, the back tab, Pete; you gotta use the shift key with this key here." Zeddemore shifted his weight onto a corner of the desk. "And you know what I meant. Egon and Janine have been dating on and off for - what? – three, four years? If the arrangement is working for them, why kick up a fuss?"

Peter swore quietly and stabbed once again at the keyboard.

"'Cause it isn't working, Zed," he said, never lifting his gaze. "It's unhealthy. It's like they're caught in a loop. A co-dependant loop. A death spiral."

Winston rubbed his jaw. "Is this Peter Venkman the psychologist talking, or Peter Venkman, one of Egon's Spengler's closest friends, or Peter Venkman the employer and sometimes friend of Janine Melnitz?"

"You got a point here?"

Winston paused and waited until Peter turned wary eyes upward.

"Why is it bothering you so much? You got to admit it's kind of sudden."

Peter shrugged and Winston recognized the tilt of the head and the self- deprecating smile: Peter had retreated somewhere behind that easy-going façade, those glittering green eyes.

"Nah, I always get on Egon's case about it. Drives him crazy." Peter's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Ray tell you about my conversation with Janine?"

"No," Winston admitted, exhaling slowly as he chose his words. "I heard most of it. Wasn't sure whether to pull you two apart or hightail it back upstairs." He sighed. "Here's the thing. You're poking your nose into Egon's business and it's made things really awkward around here."

Peter picked up a pencil from the desk and idly twirled it between his fingers. "You saying I'm out of line, Zed?"

"How long have you known Egon, Pete?"

"Since college. I don't know, fifteen twenty years. Why? You thinking of throwing us a little anniversary party?"

"You said a lot of things the other day and I'm not sure all of them are true. I guess I'm a little surprised that you're not giving Egon the benefit of the doubt."

"Facts speak for themselves. Which one do you want to dispute? Janine's in love with Egon."

"True, as far as we know."

"I think we can take that as given. Janine and subtlety run on parallel tracks, they never meet. Fact number two: Egon's been going out with her for almost four years."

"On and off."

"Fact number three: every so often, Egon reminds Janine that they're not headed for the altar. That as far as he's concerned, it's just casual, platonic, not serious. They're friends."

"We know that's true because he said something about reiterating his position."

Peter snorted. "We know that's true because we all have scars from a pissed off Janine. It's almost quarterly. I'd swear he has it on his calendar. Fact number four: despite the fact that they have conflicting expectations, two supposedly intelligent people continue to go out with each other. Now I understand Janine, I mean, she's just hanging in there, trying to wear him down-"

"Supposition." Winston crossed his arms and allowed himself a brief moment of pleasure at Venkman's surprise. "You're assigning a reason, you don't know it. It's not a fact."

Peter blew a raspberry. "No more 'Law & Order' for you; it's created a monster. Come on, Janine hasn't made a secret of how she feels."

"No," Winston said calmly, "I'm not disputing that. But Janine's a big girl and Egon's been upfront. If she knows that the best she's gonna get from him is casual dating, maybe she's decided that's enough for the time being. How about I lay out some facts?"

Peter waved a hand expansively and leaned back in the chair. "Be my guest."

"Fact number five: Janine's been attracted to Egon since day one and takes advantage of every opportunity for physical contact…"

"Uh-huh."

"…and nine times out of ten, Egon shies away from it."

"Well…yeah, okay."

"Fact number six: As far as I've observed, Janine is always the one to initiate physical contact." At Venkman's frown, Winston held back a smile and charged ahead. "Fact number seven: Egon sends her flowers for her birthday or for Valentine's Day, or he does when we remind him anyway. He doesn't do it unless there's a special occasion and even then, it's usually pink or white roses. We always know when you've sent roses and signed Egon's name because they're red."

Peter bristled. "Well, sometimes I do it for him, to get him out of a jam."

"Fact number eight: they date pretty infrequently, she usually does the asking out and whenever he asks her out it's usually as a date to some event, opera, theater, you know, where the focus is on the event not the date. He rarely if ever takes her out to dinner or to a movie, unless someone pushes him to do it."

"Cut to the chase here."

"In the lab you accused him of sending mixed signals. I think he's been pretty consistently saying he's not really interested."

Peter arched an eyebrow. "I think sex is a pretty mixed signal."

"Yeah, but you're jumping to a conclusion on that…"

"Hey, I know Egon and I know when he's ducking a question."

"Come on, Pete. He's pretty old-fashioned about that stuff. He acts like someone out of a 1930's movie or something. I think he'd give you the same answer whether or not they'd had sex. All he said was something about you crossing the line."

The basement door creaked as Ray pushed it open. Peter leaned forward suddenly, his feet hitting the floor. He rose in one swift, continuous move.

"Hey, I'm hungry. Anyone else hungry? I'm gonna see if there's any pizza left in the fridge."

Winston watched the blur that was Peter Venkman jog up the stairs at a clip not usually seen this late at night. Then he turned and gave Ray a sigh.

"I don't know. I tried talking to him…"

"No, you did a great job. You don't think it took that long to dump a trap, do you?" Ray grinned. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to Peter one- on-one. If I came up, he'd think we were ganging up on him."

Winston blinked, a little confused. "Then why…?"

"It was a good point to stop. Let it soak in, give him time to think about what you said."

Winston glanced at his watch. "Well, he'll have a few hours anyway. Then the shit hits the fan, either when Janine comes in tomorrow morning or when Egon finds out what Pete said to Janine."


	4. Chapter 4

He's got some hell of a nerve. When I play back that conversation – nah, it wasn't even a conversation, more like throwing things at each other – I just get so mad all over again. I came home, and had a glass of wine and then had another one while I took a calm, relaxing bath. And plotted every kind of revenge known to women. Men really don't have any imagination when it comes to revenge. But women? Hell, we invented revenge. And boy is he gonna be sorry he messed with me.

"Oh, no, sorry Dr. Venkman isn't here, Alison/Sharon/Trudy/whoever," and then I'll lower my voice to whisper because girls gotta stick together, "he's being treated at the VD clinic. The new one that opened up on St. Mark's Place. I'm not supposed to say anything but I just couldn't not let you know. Just promise me you won't say a word."

And that book of his. He calls it his little black book. It's his shrine to his penis, that's what it is. But the book's a lot bigger.

That was good for a couple minutes of giggling. Gotta admit I felt better after that one. What could I do to the book?

If it fell into the shredder he'd know it was me. Besides, he was too cheap to buy a good shredder. It'd take forever to shred all those pages in that little razor blade thing that sits over the trash can.

Slime would be good. It washes out of clothes but it gets paper all sticky and hard to read. But poor Slimer…Peter might actually trap Slimer like he always says he's gonna if Slimer ruined the paean to priapic Venkman glory.

And just where is Lorena Bobbit when you need her? Hmm. A few messages from an admirer named Lorena. I wonder if he'd figure it out? Probably not; he'd just figure it was another dumb female throwing herself at him. Like that actually happens. I've heard him on the phone trying to charm them. Sounds like he's the one doing the throwing.

My friend Karen said she'd dye his underwear pink, but he'd just steal the other guys' until someone got tired of it and bought him more.

Teresa said to put glue in the shampoo he uses but I don't know which one that is and what if one of the other guys used it first? It's no big secret that Peter's the laziest slob in the whole universe and the last one out of bed.

Ooh, ants or bugs in his bed. He hates bugs. If I didn't hate cockroaches so much, I might put a few in his desk. But then they'd spread and we'd have them in the firehouse and that would be totally disgusting.

I wonder if that ad for itching powder is legit?

There's the ex-lax in a box of chocolates of course. I could hide the box in his desk. He'd think he forgot about it and then snack when no one was looking.

Stephanie has that little Pekingese. I remember that time I dog sat the little shit, I mean the little dear, and I had to pick up dog poop in a little plastic bag so it didn't get all over the sidewalk. Maybe I could offer to dogsit again. Just a little poop in his boots, don't even need a lot. Ooh, that would be so good. Just before a morning bust when he's in a hurry to pull his boots on. And then smush!

Or maybe just put a little in his office, behind the bookcase so it smells really bad. Or smear a little on the underside of his desk so that when he pulls his chair in…

God, I sound as immature as he is. There is no way Janine Melnitz is going to sink to the depravity that is Peter Venkman.


	5. Chapter 5

"So you're not going to kill him?" Ray asked carefully.

Spengler sighed and remained silent a moment longer. "He does have his uses. Perhaps an excruciatingly painful injury that does not incapacitate him longer than a few hours would be sufficient."

Ray swallowed. It was never a good idea to piss off a talented and creative scientist, especially one with a thorough comprehension of engineering and anatomy. On the other hand, no matter how violent Egon's retribution might be, it probably would have been worse had Egon heard the story from Janine first. How about that? A little knowledge picked up from years of observing Peter was going to boomerang and benefit Peter, who would never know, of course.

This time Ray had taken every precaution to ensure he wasn't overheard. He and Egon were the only two awake. In the early morning hush it was almost possible to hear pedestrians walking past the firehouse. Peter wouldn't wake for several hours and even if he rose early, his stumbling shuffle to the bathroom would serve as an alarm for the two men in the kitchen.

Egon fingered his empty coffee cup as the coffee machine sputtered and hissed through its first cycle of the day. A rich yet bitter aroma filled the kitchen and slowly permeated the rest of the firehouse.

"Ray, have you any idea why Peter undertook this latest bit of provocation?"

Ray shook his head dejectedly. "Not a clue. I was hoping you might know. You're the one who usually figures him out, understands his motivation even when he doesn't know why he's doing stuff."

"I confess I am mystified by the entire series of events, both Peter's sudden exasperation with a long-standing situation and his aspersions regarding my behavior, and now apparently Janine's as well."

The gurgle from the coffee machine signaled completion. Ray stood, took both his mug and Egon's, and used the time it took to fill both, add milk and stir to contemplate his answer.

"It's almost as if he's not so much concerned with what you're doing but with what its future implications are," he mused aloud as he carried the mugs back to the table.

Egon frowned as he took his mug. "Thank you. Are you suggesting that Peter's behavior is attributable to the inevitable prospect that at least one of us will marry and move out of the firehouse?"

"Do you think you and Janine might ever get married?"

Egon blinked and studied Ray with perplexity. "Raymond, are you suffering from memory loss? You were present at the conversation in the lab four days ago, were you not? I thought I'd made it quite clear that I regard Janine as a friend. I have as much expectation of marrying her as you might."

Ray bit his lip and stared into space. "And for some reason, that seems to bother Peter."

Egon's sudden intake of breath snapped Ray from his contemplation.

"Egon?"

All the color had drained from Spengler's face. "His father."

Stantz furrowed his brow, thinking rapidly, trying to follow the chain of thought back from Spengler's last comment. "Egon, you're nothing like his father." He shook his head emphatically. "I don't think that's it. First of all, his mom and dad were married."

"His father demonstrated a deplorable indifference to the vows he had taken. It is possible that Peter has forged an association, seeing my disinterest as comparable to his father's inherent irresponsibility. He may well be unaware of it on a conscious level."

Ray gave another stubborn shake of his head. "No, I still think you're wrong. He has a lot of hot buttons from his father but he's pretty aware of them." He sipped at his coffee as he mentally reviewed all of the possibilities he'd considered over the last three days. "I know this sounds crazy, but do you think Peter might be…well…interested in Janine or anything?"

He'd expected a startled reaction but apparently Egon was far too appalled at the idea of any similarity between Charlie Venkman and himself. Spengler had one hand to his mouth as his horror stricken eyes stared into space.

"Egon." Ray reached over and shook the other man by the shoulder. "Egon, I think you're overanalyzing this. If anything, you've demonstrated the difference between you and Charlie. You take the concept of love and marriage very seriously, enough that you wouldn't enter it unless you were very sure." He shook Spengler's shoulder again. "Come on, you know I'm right."

Egon collected himself with obvious effort and several minutes passed before he answered.

"Peter and Janine? It is certainly possible though I'd think they were far too alike for any attraction."

"Twins separated at birth?" Ray snickered at the thought.

Spengler shuddered. "A particularly horrifying notion. Two Venkmans?" A small smile lit his face. "Janine would be aghast at the suggestion they were related."

"So would Peter."

The small smile on Egon's face grew briefly and then disappeared. "If Peter were interested in pursuing Janine, one would think that he'd welcome my stated view of our relationship. Rather, it seems to perturb him greatly."

"Well," Ray said slowly, thinking aloud, "even if you're not in love with Janine, we all know she's in love with you so she's not gonna look at anyone else. If you break it off, it would at least offer her the opportunity to become involved with someone else, open up the way for Peter if he were interested."

Egon's gaze turned inward. "It's a valid point, Ray. It is something I have considered though I admit I've allowed myself to be influenced by Janine's stated preference for the status quo." After another moment of contemplation he turned puzzled blue eyes back on Stantz. "Raymond, do you really believe Peter is interested in Janine romantically? I find it inconceivable that I was so utterly inattentive."

"Actually, Egon, no I don't," Ray admitted with relief. "I haven't seen any sign of it and even though Peter's pretty good at hiding a lot of things, I don't think he could have fooled both of us. Not about something like this. I was just trying to find some rational reason why he was so bothered about you and Janine."

"Hmm. That theory was based on the assumption that Peter desires my relationship with Janine to end. We've no actual evidence that is his preference. It's possible he might actually prefer the opposite, that it proceed to some manner of commitment."

Ray smiled gently. "Is that so inconceivable, Egon?"

Spengler studied his friend in surprise. "Is what inconceivable, Ray? That Peter might desire it? That I might one day marry? Or that I might consider entering into such a relationship with Janine?"

"Well, I think you already answered the third question, but the first two are kind of open."

Ray waited patiently as Egon pushed his coffee cup slowly around in a circle. The coffee had a sharp bite to it and Ray decided yet again that its aroma was more appealing than its taste. Still, he found himself sipping it quietly while Egon deliberated.

"I'd always expected that I'd marry one day and I admit I am sometimes surprised to find myself approaching forty without that prospect in sight. I still think it possible, though perhaps not as likely as I once did. As far as Peter…" Spengler sat quietly for a moment, stilling even the distracted movement of his coffee cup. "Peter's protective instincts sometimes exceed rational boundaries and he has a deep-seated dread of being alone. It is not implausible that he has projected that fear, perhaps an anxiety that he'll never marry or establish a family, onto my situation."

"Wow," Ray whispered. "I think that might be it, Egon."

"No, Raymond, it is merely speculation. I would prefer to leave hypotheses in the laboratory and discuss this matter with Peter directly," Egon's lips twisted to a wry smile, "assuming I am fortunate enough to elicit a direct answer from the evasive Dr. Venkman."

Ray grinned. "Does that mean you're not mad at him anymore?"

"No, Ray. I am not merely angry, I am incensed by his behavior. He has behaved boorishly and owes a rather large apology to Janine and to me. My recognition that his motivation may be altruistic in no way mitigates his conduct."

"What about Janine?"

Egon's left eyebrow arched. "I doubt our intervention is either required or desired, Ray. Janine is quite adept at handling this type of situation."


	6. Chapter 6

"You didn't. Ray, tell me you didn't." Peter turned pleading eyes in an over-the-shoulder glance at his partner and backup. "First Janine, now Egon. You used to be discreet!"

Ray scanned the parking lot level for the poltergeist they sought. "Well, I decided that this time defusing the situation was smarter than being discreet, Peter."

"You're gonna have to explain that one to me," Peter complained as he carefully lifted the top of a garbage can with the tip of his thrower. Reeling from the stench, he backed away and let the lid clatter to the concrete floor. "Well, it ain't in there. Not even a nasty gooper would want to hide in that."

"Slimer would," Ray corrected mildly. "I heard some neighbors complaining that there must be a raccoon going through the garbage because something was getting all the cans open."

"Yeah, right," Venkman scoffed. "A raccoon in the city. Not that close to Chinatown; he'd be on the specials menu by lunchtime. So explain this defusing the situation thing, Stantz. Tell me how Egon being even more pissed with me is in any way considered a good thing."

"I think the word he used was incensed." Ray hid a grin as he bent over the screen of his PKE meter.

Venkman threw a withering glance in Ray's direction. "Winston did the fatherly chat with me so you took Egon, am I right? Did you guys flip a coin?"

"Would you prefer Janine told Egon what happened?" As Peter's eyes shifted away, Ray smiled wryly. "Yeah, I thought so. Janine was a little cool this morning, wasn't she?"

"If your idea of a little cool is arctic winter. Come on, Ray, Egon's supposed to do understatement, you do exuberance, I do sarcasm and Winston does common sense. How many times do I have to go over our little polar balancing act with you?"

Ray glanced up from the meter, and frowned as he glanced down the next row of cars. Footsteps, more than one pair, rang around them as people returned to their cars but there was no sign of anything paranormal. "I don't think the polter's on this level. Maybe we should check the next one."

The radio crackled to life and Winston's voice spilled through. "Hey guys, we got it." He panted for a few seconds. "Ran our asses off and picked up a few bruises, but that sucker is history. We'll meet you back at the car."

Peter's quick turn towards the stairs muffled his response but Ray was pretty sure it was succinct and heartfelt. He sighed as he trudged down the stairs in Venkman's wake, towards the car and if he had anything to do with it, towards détente.

Ecto pulled into the firehouse and slowly dislodged its passengers. Winston and Egon climbed out stiffly, wincing as muscles that had tightened during the car ride home protested the movement. Egon sported a purpling mark on his left cheekbone; a two-inch gauze pad was taped onto Winston's forehead. Both wore large splotches of orange ectoplasm.

Janine jumped up. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yes, Janine, we are fine, merely bruised." Egon exhaled wearily and glanced at Zeddemore. "I call first shower."

Winston turned toward Ray and Peter who exited Ecto just as slowly for different reasons. "You guys think you could dump the trap?" Without waiting for an answer, he followed Egon up the stairs.

"I'm ready," Janine announced with a tight, wary smile.

"Um, ready for what exactly?" Ray asked after a quick glance at his two escaping partners and the one who was still lurking by the car.

"Begging and groveling. I hear it's how Dr. V. gets half his dates so he should be pretty good at it by now." She crossed her arms and began tapping one high-heeled shoe. "Come on, I'm waiting."

Peter pulled the smoking trap out of the back of Ecto. "Then it's a good thing you're used to waiting around for things that aren't gonna happen."

"And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?" Janine snapped.

"Egon, commitment. Peter, apology. Pigs, fly."

Ray snatched the dangling trap out of Peter's hand. "Here, let me get that for you." He moved swiftly towards the basement door, just ahead of Peter's protesting "Hey!"

"Funny, I heard you flew out a window on more than one occasion," Janine muttered with a dark look at Venkman before she returned to her desk.

"Thanks a lot, Ray," Peter called after his fleeing partner. "I'll just get the packs. Again."

Ray thundered down the stairs, trap in hand. The coolness of the basement was a nice contrast to the heat of a summer day increasing in both temperature and humidity as each hour passed. The 3rd floor lab and the basement containment area were environmentally controlled on autonomous systems to protect the equipment but the air conditioning for the rest of the firehouse was straining under the load.

He tapped the buttons, slid the trap home and threw the proper switches as automatically as he washed and shaved every morning. Light is green, trap is clean; the simple rhyme still made him smile. Grabbing two other empty traps to restock Ecto, he dashed back up the stairs, steeling himself for tempers rising as quickly as the outside temperature.

"Yeah, well there are times that you're such an asshole I wonder how the hell Egon's been friends with you as long as he has. I can't figure that out either, so you're just gonna have to get over it. Accept that there are things even the great Dr. Venkman doesn't understand."

Ray hesitated and then opened the basement door slowly as Peter brushed by a furious looking Janine, and set the gates to his office swinging wildly. Janine stalked back to her desk, snarling something indecipherable under her breath. Sighing heavily, Ray walked towards his locker, prepared to shed his jumpsuit.

He jumped as the phone rang. Janine, scowling, grabbed the receiver before it had finished shaking through the first ring.

"Ghostbustas, whadda ya want?" She paused and then dropped her voice. "Oh, Alison," she purred. "No, I'm sorry he's not in the office." Janine dropped her voice even lower and glanced quickly behind her as she continued talking. Smiling broadly, she dropped the receiver back onto its base.

_I don't think I want to know what that was about_, Ray decided. He looked up as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Winston, two slime-encrusted jumpsuits in hand, strode wearily towards the basement door. He paused and gave Janine a searching glance.

"You gonna tell us where the landmines are?"

Janine's face lit in a luminous smile, warm and sparkling. "Did I mention that I'm part Sicilian?"

Winston shuddered, not entirely theatrically. He shot a worried look at Ray who was merely amazed by Janine's announcement. "Really? I didn't know that. Which part?"

"Nah, I'm kidding, " Janine laughed, "but I used to date a Sicilian guy."

"Great," Winston groaned. "Are we gonna wake up one day and hear Peter screaming he's got a horse's head in his bed?"

"Winston!" Janine's jaw dropped and her voice slipped from Brooklyn tones into the appalled enunciation of an Upper East Side matron. "I am an animal lover. I would never do anything like that to a poor horse."

"Hey," came Peter's voice distantly. "It smells like something crawled up and died in here."

"No?" Winston asked with arched brow.

Janine shrugged. "So sue me. I don't consider vermin animals and I figured like belongs with like."

Ray and Winston exchanged uneasy glances and Ray wondered if it would seem suspicious if he suddenly remembered a number of errands, outside the firehouse, possibly outside the neighborhood.

"Hey, isn't anyone going to help me?" called an increasingly nasal voice that bore only a marginal resemblance to Peter. "Oh jeez, look at all the flies, and…oh God, I think I'm gonna puke. Maggots!"

Winston rubbed his forehead, gently tapping at the gauze pad taped over his right eyebrow. "I am way too tired for this. Anything else we should know?" he asked pointedly.

"Well, if he offers you chocolate, I'd pass," Janine said with a smirk.

* * *

"Is it done?" Egon asked wearily as he scrubbed his wet hair dry with a towel.

Winston paused on his way to the slime-cleansing, muscle-easing hot shower.

"Sounds like the damage is confined to Pete's office, so it should be safe to eat or drink whatever's in the kitchen." He shifted his weight onto his left leg, his right was still a little sore from colliding with a car fender or two. "Hell hath no fury is right; I am _never_ getting on that woman's bad side."

Egon sighed, and peering into the mirror above his dresser, ran a comb through unruly blond locks. "Peter often roams where angels fear to tread."

"Though I walk through the valley of darkness," Winston intoned with a broad smile, then his mood shifted and he sobered abruptly. "You know, you made a valid point the other day."

Egon confined his response to one arched eyebrow and Winston wasn't certain if the question was 'only one?' or 'which point?'

"Whenever Janine is upset, whether she's mad or just worried and scared, we send you to calm her down." Winston scowled at his own feet. "It's not right; it's as if we're trading on her feelings for you. I guess I never realized how often we did it until you mentioned that thing about taking her to dinner to keep her from seriously considering that other job."

"I am equally culpable," Egon said with a self-deprecating smile. "I have knowingly participated."

"It's not right, Egon." Winston raised his eyes and met Spengler's. "Ray mentioned it when you brought it up: the times you two have drifted apart, we've pushed you back together because it made our lives easier. Maybe Janine, or you, or even both of you, would have moved on without our interference."

"As I said, I am not without responsibility," Egon murmured as he stroked his chin. "Nor is Janine incapable of recognizing the influence of the rest of the team on our socializing or in my attempts to allay her fear or anger."

"I know that," Winston said in a rapid exhalation. "But the rest of us can own up to our accountability. Ray and I have been talking and things are going to be different around here. We've let Pete handle all the direct supervision and kind of forced you to handle anything emotional involving Janine. She's our friend and coworker, all of ours, and Ray and I are going to start taking a more active role."

Egon nodded and Winston hid a rueful smile at the doubtful cast of the other man's expression.

"And since we're talking about changing things for the better, don't you think you and Pete should hammer out your differences?"

Winston was pretty sure that Egon let his glasses slide down his nose deliberately so that he could peer over the lenses with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, I don't mind partnering with you every time we go out, but have some pity on Ray. He's been with the mouth that doesn't stop for four days straight. He can't even manage a 'great' or a 'wow.' He's gonna need sensory deprivation therapy or something."

Egon smiled, albeit reluctantly, and Winston gave a little sigh of relief. Everything was going to be all right, once they got the two chowderheads in the same room. They'd hammer it out; they'd been doing it for more than fifteen years and even if it was a mystery to Winston and sometimes even to Ray, somehow it worked.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Apologize?_ Me apologize to you? Are you _kidding_? I am so pissed at you, Spengs that I can barely speak."

Peter was a blur of motion, crisscrossing the lab as if movement could displace some of his anger.

"You're angry with me?" Egon was incredulous.

"No, Egon, I'm beyond angry. Pissed. Incensed. Enraged. Furious. Pick a word."

"You are angry with me for sleeping with Janine," Egon said flatly, not a question though his mind was reeling with a thousand questions.

"You have no idea, do you?" Peter asked, shaking his head with disgust. "And it's about damn time that you admitted what you've been doing. You've got Winston and Ray convinced that you never moved beyond holding hands and a little necking."

Egon blinked, astonished and slightly unnerved that he had admitted aloud what he'd barely admitted to himself.

"You knew." Again a statement, not a question, though it implied a question. How? How did Peter know? Not from Janine. She'd been remarkably discreet.

"Of course I knew. What I want to know is why?"

Overwhelmed, Egon thought irrelevantly, 'so this is what it is like to receive data in excess of processing capabilities.'

"Why what?"

Dazed, he blinked vapidly at Peter who frowned and sighed before taking a seat on the lab couch.

"You really don't have any idea, do you, Spengs?" he asked in a voice that sounded childishly surprised.

Egon stared at him for a moment, still grasping for the clues that eluded him. "How?"

"How did I know? You want the whole unexpurgated story or the Reader's Digest Version?"

Egon nodded dumbly and Peter sighed and then shook his head. "How about I tell you the whole thing? Maybe by the time I'm done, your brain will have come out of shock. Sound like a plan?"

Spengler nodded, this time slowly, almost gratefully, and fumbled to a seat on his lab stool. He mentally thanked every benevolent force in the universe; as this conversation was apparently inevitable, it was best that it occurred in the quiet of his lab. It was a safe place and it was private, though at that precise moment the entire firehouse was equally private as Winston and Ray had made vague noises about grocery shopping and Janine was meeting a friend for lunch.

"I guess it was two, three weeks ago. I drank too many Cokes or something while watching TV because I had to get up, hit the head, about 3 or 4 in the morning. So I stumble back to bed, still half-asleep and I notice your bed is empty. Even worse, your bed is made, looks like it hasn't been slept in. I went to the lab to drag your ass out of there but it was empty. Not even a light on. So then I figured maybe you were having trouble sleeping and I went downstairs. Nothing. Four in the morning and no sign of you anywhere. I kind of panicked for a minute, almost woke up the guys, but then I tried to remember what you'd been doing the night before and I remembered you had Philharmonic tickets or something. Swear to God, Egon, I almost called the cops right there and then. I was that convinced you got mugged or something on the way home. I had my hand on the phone when I remembered that you had two tickets to the Philharmonic and you'd taken Janine. Bam! It hit me. All those nights you said you got home late because you escorted Janine all the way back to Brooklyn, total horseshit. You were staying over. You just got up early enough that you made it home before anyone noticed you spent the night at Janine's."

"Actually, Peter," a recovered Egon corrected, "as I arrived home in the early morning hours…"

"Egon, you've been lying to me for months, maybe years. Don't compound it."

Egon rubbed the back of his neck. "Peter, I did not lie to you. I have never lied to you though I admit to a certain amount of evasion in this matter. I wished to avoid the innuendo that would accompany such a revelation. It was a new situation…"

"How new? How long have you been covering this up?"

"A desire for privacy hardly constitutes … "

"Spengler." The muscles of Peter's jaw stood out in relief as he growled the one word, both rebuke and warning.

Egon exhaled the words, "Three months." It was out and he felt shameful relief settle around his shoulders.

Peter stood, pacing. "Three months, three goddamn months you've been…" He broke off and shook his head, as if in disbelief.

"Peter," Egon paused and then continued his question in cautious tones, "if you've known or at least suspected for several weeks that Janine and I had a physical relationship, why, pray tell, did you not speak up before that incident several days ago? And why didn't you come to me directly instead of doing so in front of Winston and Ray?"

"Egon," Peter drawled impatiently, "I'm not going to tell you who you can and can't sleep with. Yeah, I admit, I was kind of pissed and a little disappointed that you didn't say anything to me but I know how private you are and since it's Janine… Well, you know I give her a hard time and all but if she made you happy I was all for it."

Bewilderment again claimed Spengler. "Then why on earth are you angry with me for doing so?"

"It was the tape, the goddamned tape." Hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans and eyes fixed on a distant point, Peter took furious strides that ate up the raised tile floor of the lab. "Nothing had changed, Egon, except for the fact that you'd raised all of the stakes by hopping in the sack. No wonder you didn't say anything. You had to know you were behaving like a dog, a swine, the kind of guy who makes the rest of us look bad. What the hell were you…no, are you thinking?"

"I was-" Egon trailed off, quite literally flabbergasted for perhaps the first time in his life.

Peter whirled on him, eyes tossing off sparks of anger. "Let me spell it out in words that Slimer could follow. For three and a half years you dated casually. Oh, you probably swapped a few gallons of spit and maybe groped each other a little, but you kept it relatively casual. What the hell made you decide to screw her?"

Egon felt the first stirrings of anger. "There is no need for crudity and I fail to see how this is any of your business."

"Oh, it's my business, all right and Egon, I swear, you better talk to me now before this goes any further and it's completely out of control. This doesn't just affect you and Janine." Peter sighed explosively and made an obvious effort to rein in his temper. "Egon, I'm not asking what she's like in bed or for any prurient details. I just want to know what changed your mind? Is that such a deep, dark secret?"

"No," Spengler said hesitantly, exploring the question for alternative meanings and finding none. He groped for words, finding his usual grasp of vocabulary failing him. "There was no single defining moment, no sudden change of heart. As you said, we had engaged in various displays of physical affection over a period of time though we had never actually been intimate." Egon felt himself blushing and struggled for control. "Janine had more than once expressed a desire to…" Closing his eyes, he sighed and turned his face to the ceiling for anonymity. "Peter, I don't expect you to understand it but it occurred to me that my refusal to engage in a more physical relationship might be a purely selfish one."

"What!" Peter squawked, eyelids fluttering rapidly. "It was a pity fuck? Jesus Christ, I think I'm speechless." He stared at Spengler in obvious amazement. "Okay, it didn't last long but for nearly three or four whole seconds I didn't know what to think much less say."

Egon straightened his back and drew himself up on the stool he occupied. "That is a grossly inaccurate and demeaning description, Peter. I think I've said quite enough. I know that you have."

He slid from the stool and turned to exit the lab. Hands grabbed each of his upper arms and turned him back.

"Look, I'm sorry. I was just a little surprised. I didn't mean it and I apologize, Egon. God, I really am sorry."

Egon allowed himself to be turned and faced Peter at close quarters. Venkman was breathing rapidly, his eyes bright, hair disheveled but the look on his face was sincere and beseeching.

"Egon," Peter implored, tightening his grip on Spengler's arms, "please talk to me. This is really, really important. We have to talk about this."

"Why?" Egon demanded irately. "I don't see its relevance or how this involves anyone but Janine or myself."

Peter swallowed. "I promise you will. Just trust me for right now. I'm sorry, really I am. Please go on. Why did you think it was selfish?"

Spengler walked slowly to the couch and sank down onto it, resting his arms on his knees and his head in his hands. "Peter, I cannot be what Janine wants me to be. I am not in love with her. I don't expect to ever be in love with her. We go out and I enjoy her company but I know that is completely inadequate, it's not what she really wants. I cannot give her what she really wants."

Venkman nodded. "But you could give her this."

Egon sighed. "In relating it to you it sounds tawdry, as if I am justifying an activity, a decision, of which I am not proud but I assure you it was never intended that way."

"So she pursued you for three years, you kept her at arm's lengths and now you're telling me that you broke down and slept with her because that's what she wanted?" Peter stepped back a few paces, leaned against a lab table and folded his arms. "Sounds to me like you were thinking with your dick instead of your brain."

"That is entirely possible," Egon admitted reluctantly. "It seems rather outlandish to say aloud now, though at the time…"

"Yeah, well the blood was rushing in one direction. I know. Okay, let's take a step back, take it from the top. Do you love her, Egon? Love as in being in love, not love like you love a dog or your favorite PKE meter."

"Peter, really," Egon said sternly, "one does not possess emotions for inanimate objects. And the answer, as you well know, is no. Janine is a beautiful woman, bright and energetic, intelligent and vivacious. In short, she is much of what I desire but I am not in love with her. Perhaps it would be easier if I were."

"Damn straight it would. Okay." Peter rubbed his hands together as if signaling a beginning. "Egon, you're my best friend and if your best friend can't tell you when you're screwing up, who can?"

"I assume that's a rhetorical question?" Spengler asked dryly.

"Naturally. Okay, Spengs, sleeping with Janine when you don't love her and she loves you is bad. Like in crossing the streams bad. Think you can remember that?"

Egon nodded wryly as Peter prowled around the lab, picking up and putting down items at random.

"Reason number one: it's unfair to her because it keeps her tied up with you when she really should be free to find someone who can love her as fully as she loves you."

"I know," Egon admitted. "It's something we've discussed but Janine has been somewhat adamant about her desire to continue as is."

"That's because she hasn't given up on you yet and the longer you sleep with her, the longer you reinforce that expectation. You with me so far, big guy? It's basic psychology. You're reinforcing her hope even though you know it's misdirected. It's a big no-no to sleep with a woman under those circumstances. Some people would say you were using her. It's why I called you a dog and a swine…"

"Peter, I have near perfect recall. It is unnecessary to share these charming depictions with me more than once." Egon chewed at his lip and watched Peter until the other man stopped moving and met his gaze. "While I understand and essentially agree with every point you've made, each of them fails to take into consideration what Janine wants."

"You said it yourself, big guy, Janine wants more than you can give her."

Over the tops of his glasses, Egon regarded Peter solemnly. "Except in this one particular instance."

Peter dropped to a crouch in front of Spengler. "Are you being stubborn, blind, or is the sex just that good?"

Egon shook his head forcefully. "You are missing the point. Janine and I are both adults. Our decision to engage in a physical relationship is a purely personal matter. Both of us have entered it with our eyes open, fully aware that it implies only a desire to…"

"Be intimate." Peter snorted. "You said it yourself, that exact wording. That's a lot more than a little friendly or casual sex." He pushed himself to his feet but remained hovering in front of the couch.

"Peter, we are both long past the age of consent. You are implying that Janine is unable to make her own decisions, something you know very well that she'd refute. Quite angrily, I imagine."

Peter bit the inside of his lip and began pacing slowly around the nearest lab table. Egon leaned back against the couch, watching warily as Peter obviously sought and prepared a counter argument.

"Think of it this way," Peter said slowly, as if he was thinking as he spoke, "if she was drunk, would she be competent to give consent? The courts say no."

Egon scowled at the irrelevance and Peter laughed lightly, as if he had foreseen Egon's objection.

"She's in love. Trust me, sometimes that feels a lot like being drunk except there's a lot less barfing and you don't need the aspirin until you actually get married. Or so I've been told."

"An amusing analogy, Peter, and quite probably true for certain individuals," Egon said with a pointed look in Venkman's direction. "However, the effect of alcohol on brain functionality can be empirically measured and therefore can be said with some accuracy to inhibit the ability to make an informed decision. What you are suggesting is that emotion acts as a similar obstruction to rational judgment."

"Yeah, but it's hardly a novel thesis," Peter said mockingly. "Come on, Spengs, even the courts recognize this. Ever hear the phrase crime of passion?"

"Hardly applicable to these circumstances."

Peter shook his head disbelievingly. "And you're the genius. I bet your IQ is double Janine's."

Egon growled menacingly and Peter hurriedly continued.

"I didn't know anyone's IQ could be so lopsided. What was it, like a buffet? I'll have an extra serving of science brains but thanks, I'll pass on that stuff about people or feelings or emotion because any idiot can do that."

Peter's lighthearted tone didn't hide his dismay and Egon forced himself to consider the point.

"You are suggesting that I am deficient in my ability or knowledge of human relations?" At Peter's emphatic nod, Egon frowned. "I make no claims towards expertise in the field, though I hardly think I am as inept as you portray."

Peter cocked his head and narrowed his eyes as if giving the matter both serious attention and a somewhat mocking answer. Then he exhaled loudly and shifted position.

"Okay, let's look at this another way. What would happen if Janine got pregnant?" He waved off Egon's objection. "Oh, I'm not implying that she'd do it deliberately, though I wouldn't put it past her, but birth control isn't 100% reliable. Did you even think about that?"

Egon stiffened. "I assure you, we have taken more than adequate preventative measures."

"You better have," Peter said heatedly. "And you better be using a condom every goddamn time you have sex 'cause it's not just about babies, Egon…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Peter. Janine isn't…"

"No. Don't even say it because you don't know. Unless she's been tested and cleared, you don't know, she doesn't know. Hell, you weren't a virgin either and as far as I know, you've never been tested. So don't tell me it isn't an issue because I am _not_ going to watch you die like that."

Peter's voice cracked and he turned away. Egon sat in silence, giving his friend time to recover and giving weight to the matter at hand.

"I am neither naïve nor suicidal," Egon said gravely. "Nor is Janine. The matter was discussed and preventative measures were taken."

Peter's breathing slowed and the flush faded from his face as he turned back towards the couch.

"Okay, so then we're back to the possibility of Janine getting pregnant. She's in love with you so chances are that she won't even consider an abortion and since you'd be feeling as guilty as hell, I'm willing to bet big money what would happen. You'd marry her, out of a sense of obligation, because it's the right thing to do. You'd marry someone you're not in love with because you were stupid enough to start sleeping with her in the first place. And you'd stay married for the rest of your life." Peter shook his head sadly. "Egon, I know guys like that. That's not what you want. That's not what I want to see happen to you."

"And you," Egon said indignantly, "are you in love with all of the women with whom you engage in sexual intercourse? Does the pregnancy issue not apply to you as well?"

"It's a fair question and the answer is no, I'm not in love with them but they're not in love with me either. Chances are if that happened," he looked around hastily, "knock wood it never does, we'd probably agree not to have the baby." Peter grinned sheepishly and tapped his knuckles against his own temple.

"I see. The worst case scenarios only apply to me."

"No, they don't," Peter said honestly. "But let's face it, you and I operate from different moral codes. We have different reputations and people have different expectations of us. No one would actually expect me to get married under those circumstances."

Egon swallowed, appalled and hurt on Peter's behalf. "Peter, I know that you do not take your responsibilities any less seriously than I do. No matter what persona you project, we do not operate from different moral codes."

"Yeah, well, we'll have to see about that." Peter ruffled a hand through his hair. "Anyway, we're discussing you, not me."

Egon sat quietly on the couch, mulling the discussion and allowing Peter some manner of recovery from his unprompted confession.

"It is apparent you've given this matter a great deal of thought."

"Yeah, well, sit tight 'cause I'm not done." Peter said flatly. He bit his lip and watched Spengler for a minute or two before frowning and returning to his rapid yet aimless wandering around the lab.

"The final reason? You're her boss, Egon. Her boss. Have you even considered that this opens us up to a sexual harassment suit? Has that thought penetrated that oh-so-superior brain of yours?"

Spengler blinked. Truth be told, it had not. "Peter, quite honestly, I've always considered that to be your domain."

"Sexual harassment or supervision?" Venkman grinned and then waved a hand quickly, as if to brush away what he had said. "Never mind; you're the one who's sleeping with her. This business is a partnership, Egon, and Janine works for all of the partners. No court in New York – hell, in the freakin' United States! -is going to excuse you from that responsibility just because you like to stay in your lab and play with your mold."

Spengler shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I am not unaware of the potential repercussions, Peter, but Janine is hardly likely to exact that sort of retribution."

"Bullshit she won't! What the hell are you thinking? You're usually not this clueless, you usually think with your brain, Egon…"

"Unlike a significant number of others of my gender, present company included."

"Yeah, go ahead, take a crack at me. None of my ex-girlfriends have the means to bankrupt the business, not to mention the impact on your patent rights. Are they listed under the corporation's name or yours?"

Egon blanched. "The corporation. You know that."

"Shit." Peter frowned and kicked angrily at the bottom of the nearest lab table. "Not that it makes a difference because if she goes that route, she'll name you and the corporation, if not all of us. Maybe you should list all future patent applications under your mother's name. Can you do that?"

"Peter, I still think the likelihood…"

"If she gets fed up and quits, or when we get fed up and fire her, she's got us by the balls. If she doesn't like her raise or her performance review, she can say it's because she's not sleeping with you anymore."

"Peter, this is Janine!" Egon finally shouted, exasperated. "Janine, who cares about all of us, not just me. Janine, who has gone into dangerous, potentially fatal situations, on our behalf. She may well have cause to be angry with me, and perhaps with you…"

"Perhaps?" Peter snorted.

"…but do you really think it likely that she would take any action to harm the business, much less Winston or Ray? Do you think she is even capable of doing anything like that?"

Peter's eyelashes fluttered as he studied his feet, frowning.

"I didn't think so," Egon concluded with a shaking sigh.

"Pretty impressive defense, Spengs," Peter said, blatantly provocative. "Sure you're not in love?"

"No," Egon said with a tremendous sadness that nearly drowned him. "She is a wonderful woman and I may well be a fool, but I am not in love with her."

Peter heaved a mighty sigh and walked over to the couch. "Push over." He sat next to his friend, shoulders touching, in quiet contemplation. They sat in silence, listening as the heat of the day finally broke under an onslaught of summer rain.

"It's not whether I think she'd sue us, Spengs," Peter said quietly, staring at his sneakers. "Because you're right. She does love us, all of us, and she knows we care about her and we'd never do anything to intentionally hurt her. But that's not the thing. She can do it. Even if she doesn't, even if I don't think she will, she can. It's a risk that's hanging over the business now and you put that risk there."

"Which explains your anger with me." Egon said with rigid control, fully aware of the magnitude of Peter's disappointment. _I let him down_, Egon thought morosely. _I've let everyone down._

Peter smiled quickly, a flash of lighting in a subdued expression. "I think I said pissed or enraged or something. I don't think anger cuts it."

"Peter, I'd like to think that we've never given Janine cause to think or feel…"

"No, we haven't and we're not going to," Peter interrupted. "Maybe you forget but I used to date a lawyer who specialized in real sexual harassment cases and trust me, most of that stuff is real. Completely intolerable environments and quid pro quo arrangements. That's not happening here. But there are a lot of lawyers with the morals of that dead rat Janine left under my desk and just the fact that you were sleeping with her could be twisted and used against us."

"Were?" Egon said with a raised eyebrow.

Peter turned and eyed him, then shrugged. "That's up to you, Egon. You fucked up pretty badly, you know."

"Yes, I believe I am beginning to see your point," Egon said dryly.

"You can't undo what you did. Not unless that gate to the Netherworld lets you turn back time about three or four months. But you can fix what you can."

Spengler leaned forward over his knees and rested his chin in his hands, sighing almost despondently. "Janine deserves better," he concluded. "All of you do."

He felt the weight of an arm around his shoulder and while he knew it was given in comfort and reassurance, it reminded him only of his obligations, his failed obligations to the people he loved.

"You're not the first guy to screw up," Peter said, almost gently. "You won't be the last. You just do it a little more spectacularly than most."

Egon sniffed. "Surely your expertise in this area exceeds mine."

"That's better," Peter said, with a light squeeze of Egon's shoulder. "That sounds like the Egon Spengler I know. Just fix what you can, okay? And please don't call me Shirley."

* * *

_Finis_

* * *

A/N: I know this story will never be popular with E/J shippers but Egon lives a life of the mind and Janine lives a life of the heart and I can see him rationalizing himself into this type of situation, illogical thought it is, because he is less connected to his emotional side.


End file.
